


The Curse of Dark Anubis

by Bonfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: lupin_snape, HP: EWE, M/M, Mystery, Romance, egyptian mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man with the aspect of an animal, touched by both good and evil, stands in the center of a maelstrom…at the museum.</p><p>Part of the Lupin_Snape A Decade of Snape/Lupin Celebration, 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curse of Dark Anubis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowycat/gifts).



§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

**_ Disclaimer:_** The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life. 

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

The box arrived at the British Museum’s Egyptology Department on a snowy, dreary night. The messenger was dark, not just dark of skin or dark of hair; he seemed to carry a dark cloud over him and his features. When questioned later, the security guards and the young docent on duty would only say something along the lines of “The messenger was dark and misty and no, I couldn’t tell you what color his eyes were because it was dark _all around_ the man. At least, I think it was a man.”

The docent signed for the box under the watchful eyes of two security guards, hired especially for the holidays’ extended hours. They noted the time (8:00 p.m.) and that the box had come care of A. Crowley, then promptly forgot anything else. The docent (V. Burbage) was escorted by one of the guards (G. Goyle) who shyly asked her for a date. She giggled and dropped the box on the desk of Dr. R. Wulfsen. As she closed the door, the docent accepted Goyle’s invitation. Unfortunately, she should have been observing the box as it popped open on Dr. Wulfsen’s desk.

Hours later, when Goyle was going off-shift, he checked all the office doors. When he came to Dr. Wulfsen’s, he found it ajar, a trail of bright golden sand starting at the desk where the open box rested and leading off toward the newest exhibit. Goyle also felt the dark stickiness of Dark Magic. His face greyed as he remembered. Goyle looked around and pulled out his wand and a scrap of parchment. His note barely made it out of the building before all hell broke loose.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

The world was winter-white and silent, and Severus Snape liked it that way. He kept telling himself that as he fixed another cup of tea, this time with a splash of precious Glenfiddich single-malt. He leaned against the marble counter he’d put in with his own hands and watched the birds swooping in to raid his birdfeeder. Severus always rooted for the smaller birds; they had to be smarter and quicker, much like he’d had to be during his other life.

When a titmouse stole the sunflower seed from a jay, he finally grinned and sipped his doctored tea. When the same titmouse dived under a parchment spear, Severus’ grin faded and his wand was in his hand in a flash. There was no evil intent and the message window popped open as the parchment almost flattened itself against the wards. The parchment fell the last foot and onto Severus’ marble countertop. He finished his tea, set the cup aside, and cast revealing charms on the message.

“Goyle? What’s that daft boy done now?” Severus muttered. The message unfurled itself at the touch of Severus’ fingers.

_Prof. Snape,_

_Come to British National Museum. Bring curse-breaker, please! Dark magic!_

_G. Goyle_

“Finally learns to write a message and he sends it to me?” Severus shook his head and stared at the parchment for another minute. Closing his eyes, Severus’ magic swirled out and collected his robes, his socks and boots, a satchel filled with defensive and offensive potions, and a startlingly bright crimson scarf. When he opened them, Severus heaved a gusty sigh. “Well, fine! If I can’t count on my own sense of self-preservation, I’d best go see what trouble Goyle’s gotten into.”

As Severus donned socks and boots, he kept muttering to himself. “ _Bring curse-breaker_ , eh? I’m supposed to be dead, muttonhead! What? I should just pop in on William Weasley and bring cakes?” He pulled his boots on and stomped to fix the fit. “Bloody idiot boy! What have you gotten yourself into?” He swirled his robes on, suddenly feeling more alive and interested than he had in months.

Severus stopped and looked out his window, the titmouse looking back at him. He would have sworn the little feathered being winked at him as he turned away and grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder.

“St. Pancreas Floo Station!” he cried.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

Dr. Wulfsen could feel the pulsing of the wards from the street. Always an early riser, he’d decided to come into the city to clear his desk for the holidays. And to get away from his mother-in-law’s attempts at finding him another wife, or at least, a girlfriend. Better an Egyptian princess dead 3,000 years than another witch who wasn’t really what he wanted in a bed partner.

His magic flared out and Wulfsen slowed his steps, his wand slithering down his sleeve and into his hand without a thought. The wards were writhing around the British National Museum like a nest of agitated snakes, hissing and spitting out magical hotspots. He spotted Harry Potter’s messy hair as he searched the crowd gathered outside the police barricades.

Weaving through the crowd, showing his credentials as he went, Dr. Wulfsen finally made it to Harry’s side. “So, why is my place of work warded like Malfoy Manor, Harry?” he asked.

“Remy!” Harry stuck out his hand for a shake and drew the other man in for a quick hug. “I knew you worked in antiquities, but I didn’t know it was here.” Harry surreptitiously cast a Cone of Silence around them. “We got an anonymous message that something was going at the British National Museum by way of St. Pancreas Floo Station. One of the juniors thought it a joke, but the other on duty woke me up—I’m Senior-on-call tonight—and here we are. Scotland Yard sent over some of the Squibs to help and I’ve got Muggleborn Aurors in the crowd as well.”

“So, you’re not telling me what’s going on, Harry. Only what you’ve done so far.” Dr. Remy Wulfsen glanced over the crowd, noting several familiar faces in uniform and one that shouldn’t have been walking around. He shivered and turned back to Harry. “I see Bill Weasley’s in the crowd. Curse-breaking, hmm? Shall I take up my old duties, too, Harry? See what I can find in the back alley?”

Harry’s relieved grin burst out and the Cone of Silence slowly faded away. “You know the layout, Dr. Wulfsen. Would you take my Detective Sergeant and show him?” Harry waved Bill Weasley over and made a show of sending them around the building, away from the main crowd.

“So this is where you ended up, Remus?” Bill asked. The scars on his face had faded somewhat, most likely due to his wife’s innate Veela magic as well as time. Although, when he grinned, it was still very wolfish. “I always thought you’d stick with education. Now, knowing you, where’s the point of least resistance on the old place?”

A dark, beaky-nosed shadow followed the pair, eyebrows raised in surprise at the still fit and healthy aspect of one Remus Lupin. He tucked the earpiece of his Weasley Extendable Ears into his ear, listening to their discussion of weak ward points and leaky magic. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize they’d stopped moving until he walked up on them.

“Where there’s one, I knew the other wouldn’t be far behind,” Weasley laughed. He nodded at Severus’ shocked face.

“Hallo, Severus,” Remy Wulfsen said. His eyes followed the crimson line of the scarf around Snape’s throat, a perverse thought darkening his eyes before he blinked it away. “You look good for a dead man.”

“The same to you, Lupin. Or should I say ‘Wulfsen’?” Stephen reeled in his Extendable Ears, ignoring Remus’ raised eyebrows. “One makes use of well-done magicks when they do what one needs done.”

Remy shook his head and stuck his hand out. “Remy Wulfsen, Professor of Egyptian Antiquities.”

“Stephen Prince, chemist.” They shook hands, the heat flaring up between them like always.

Bill cleared his throat and drew their attention back to the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, Remy slowly withdrew his from Stephen’s, his fingertips lingering against the other man’s palm.

“You were correct, Remy. This joint in the stones is a weak spot. The ancient wards have frayed here as the stones shifted over time.” Weasley’s wand flew back and forth in intricate runes that flared and then faded into the wards. “If you and Stephen could cast some charms for growth and expansion, I might be able to make us a doorway in.”

Stephen cast Befuddlement and Notice-Me-Not charms on the way they’d come and then joined Weasley at the building corner. His wand work was a bit rusty, but within minutes he had several potions seeping into the foundation stones, weakening the ancient wards and their newest counterparts further. Remus’ Arithmancy equations crawled around Stephen’s potions, enhancing the fraying effect while diverting attention. Between the three of them, a portal began to appear within the stones, a hazy outline of a door that slowly solidified in the space between.

“There, that ought to do it!” Bill said with grin. “Now to let Harry know.” Weasley conjured a pigeon, said a few words to it, and set it loose in the early morning light. “Just hope Harry’s got a sense of humor. That message comes out in crap on a shoulder, but it’s the best way to communicate in such crowds.” Stephen snorted into his scarf.

A few minutes later an ephemeral stag ran out of the alley floor and pawed the pavement. “Next time, warn me! Ginny’ll kill me if this pigeon poo doesn’t come out! And, I’ll be there in ten.” The stag nodded to Bill, bowed to Stephen, and tossed its antlers at Remus, then disappeared.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

Potter rounded the corner of the building and ran into Stephen’s spells with a grimace. Stephen let him feel the stickiness of them for several seconds before allowing him through. They glared at each other and then studiously ignored one another.

“Nice door, Bill,” Harry said.

“Not my work, Harry. Remy and Mr. Prince did all the fancy work. I just picked the lock.”

Remy stepped forward. “I’m going in, Harry. My magic will be known to the exhibits so that may be helpful.”

“I’ll follow, as well, Potter. Gregory Goyle sent me a plea for help,” Stephen growled.

“Goyle? Finally learned to write a coherent message, did he?” Harry asked with a grin. Stephen had to blink; he’d felt the world tilt as Potter used almost the same words he had.

“We’ll be right behind,” Harry said and Bill nodded. “Between the four of us, we’ve got the requisite knowledge and sneakiness to wreak some havoc on whoever decided to hold the museum hostage.”

They entered the British National Museum as stealthily as they could, the stray magicks unleashed by the dark magic sliding over and around them, often pressing close enough to be uncomfortable until Stephen handed them vials of a pink potion. “Drink this and the magic will stop trying to mix with ours.” They gulped them down, the other three surprised at the light peppermint flavor.

Remy rounded a corner and found the newest docent, Veronica, perched on the arms of Shiva, batting at several porcelain Chinese dogs with a broom. Gregory Goyle had his wand pressed into a mop, channeling his spells along the length of it as he swung at animated Egyptian funerary figures. Scattered pieces of crockery gave evidence that the two of them were worthy defenders.

Harry grinned and sent a slight Summoning spell at the Chinese dogs, dragging them across the marble tiles—which they gouged with their formidable claws. Goyle shouted at Veronica and she patted Shiva on her head and jumped down; Shiva shivered and stepped down from her pedestal, dispersing the Egyptian figures with a growl. Greg bowed and Veronica curtsied and Shiva mounted her platform again.

“Professor Snape!” Goyle shouted. “Ronnie, he’s the man I told you ‘bout. Good example, you know.” Goyle swatted at a stray clay combatant as he pulled Veronica close.

Remy and Bill were casting Containment spells on the animated pottery, with Remy casting a incense spell that made Shiva smile mysteriously. Harry was Summoning everything into a box he’d taken from his pocket and expanded. Veronica watched with wide eyes.

“Coo, Mum always said magic was wonderful.” She looked up at Stephen with eyes that wouldn’t have been amiss in Charity Burbage’s face. “Veronica Burbage. Pleased to meet you.” Stephen almost fell over at the introduction. Remy was there to lend a hand.

“I knew your aunt, Charity,” Remy said. 

“I did as well. A good woman,” Stephen said quietly. Veronica stepped over a crushed vase and grabbed Stephen’s hand.

“You came when I was little. Mum liked you.” A crash in the distance had them all turning their heads. “Well, shall we go see what’s making a mess of my museum?” Veronica asked, broom assuming a violent inclination.

“You’ll stay behind us, young lady,” Harry said. “If you know about magic, you know that you need to be careful of it, too. I’m an Auror, and these three,” he indicated Remy, Stephen, and Bill, “fought in a war. Greg there’s a good fighter, too, so I know you’ll be safe in his hands.” Goyle’s ears turned red, almost as crimson as Stephen’s scarf.

Veronica nodded and clutched her broom tighter. Remy told himself to let her know she had some magical ability; the broom was humming subharmonically, much like a wand.

Bill had been casting spells into each quadrant, and up and down, while Harry cleared the area. “You noticed that Shiva there didn’t attack these two, right? Well, that’s because the dark magic that’s oozing all over the place is targeted to specific things, of a specific material. Our grand gal there is made of marble, not pottery.” Remy nodded and Stephen agreed with a grunt.

“Greg, I’d like you and Veronica to go to the corner where we entered.” Goyle shared a sad look with Veronica. “I want you to send a note to P. ffitch-Pennyfeather. Tell him Harold wants to catch a rat.” Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and grinned maniacally. “It will bring Ron and a squad of Aurors with specialized knowledge.” Goyle grinned and Veronica looked happy to remain part of the fun. “You’ll need to guide them to the Egyptian room and the Chinese room, right, Bill?”

“Spot-on, Harry. Don’t you agree, Prof—Prince? Wulfsen?” When the other two wizards nodded, Bill grinned. Goyle and Veronica waved, and broom and mop at the ready, headed toward the weak point in the wards.

Stephen pulled a round-bellied flask from his satchel and handed it to Weasley. “Tell me what you think of that, Weasley.”

As the flask touched his hand, Bill’s grin grew bigger. “Brilliant! This is like concentrated curse-breaking. I can feel the Bond Break spell, the Locking Hex, even a Sticking Charm! Amazing!” he breathed. He put it in a pocket.

“You’ll know when to use it, Weasley.” Stephen looked around the hall, noting a thin trail of sand.

Remy clapped a proud hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “Always knew you were a genius! Now, shall we go and save _my_ museum? I’ve a great deal of work to do and this is cutting into my day.” Remy laughed, a carefree laugh all things considered.

“Lay on, MacDuff!” Harry stepped back and locked the containment box, leaving it in the middle of the hall. “Ron and the boys will see this and undo what needs to be undone while we have an adventure.”

“Only you would think that going into unknown territory, against unknown magic, is an adventure, Potter,” Stephen muttered. “Oof!” Remy’s elbow was still sharp, especially when applied to Stephen’s ribs.

“What he means to say…” Remy began.

“What he means to say is that I haven’t grown up, but he’ll still stick around to save my arse,” Harry finished.

The quartet slipped quietly through the museum, fending off only a few clay animations until they got to the Egyptian Room. Remy held up his left hand and poked forward with his wand. When the tip passed the entryway, sparks erupted from it and Remy flew backwards.

Bill took up a curse-breaker’s position to the sunward side and began casting probing spells while Harry covered him. Stephen rolled his eyes and went to Remy’s side, his hand already diving into his satchel for a pain potion.

As Remy groaned and clutched his head, Stephen knelt down and pushed the opened flask against his lips. “Drink this if you want the stars to go back into the heavens, man!” Stephen ordered. “I came here to help Goyle, not pander to an old werewolf’s high-jinks.”

“Such a warm and lovely bedside manner, Stephen,” Remy groaned and then gulped down the potion. His grimace was all that Stephen could hope for. “Still tastes like dirty socks, Sev-Stephen.”

Stephen let Wulfsen’s head fall back and bounce on the floor, but not as hard as before. “Serves you right for rushing in where angels would fear to tread without surveillance.” He stood up, brushing at his knees, eyes averted. His fingers still tingled from his brief touch of Remy’s face.

He glanced down. “Get up!” Stephen hissed. “I want to go home and your ambulatory self is vital to that!” He moved to Harry’s side.

Bill finished his spells and wiped his brow. “Professors, I’ll need your help. You both are versed in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’ll need several layers of binding undone while I crack open this room.” He nodded at the entryway to the Egyptian Room, now glowing a sickly green. “It’s resisting, but with your help, we’ll be inside in five minutes.”

“Which side, dexter or sinister?” Stephen asked. When Bill gestured with his chin to the right, Stephen grinned. “Dexter it is. Sinister for you, Wulfsen.”

Remy took up a position to Bill’s left, eyes rolling at the unsubtle insult. They were a small triangle with Harry as the base and Bill as the apex, balanced by Remy and Stephen on either side. Wulfsen and Prince echoed and enhanced Bill’s spells until the sickly green changed to a vibrant blue and then faded away. Bill took out a Knut and tossed it into the Egyptian Room without any sparks.

A low moan came from the room and Bill cast a Shielding Charm in front of the four of them, augmented by one of Stephen’s making. A partially-wrapped mummy crawled across the floor toward them, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth marble tiles.

“Um, Wulfsen, this is your area of expertise, isn’t it?” Stephen asked softly. 

“That’s Amon Pok, a minor priest I used to pet on my way to my office,” Remy said just as softly.

Harry bit his lip and then tapped Bill on the shoulder. “You know what’s going on?” he asked.

Bill nodded. This looked familiar as another mummy, this one in one piece, shambled toward them. “Looks like someone sent you the Curse of Dark Anubis, Remy.” Remy added a Shielding Charm, thickening the layers between them and the mummies. “You must have someone who really hates you. This is how some famous curse-breakers were killed.”

“Oh, bloody wonderful! Here I am helping Goyle and now I’ve got to save your furry arse again!” Stephen groused as he shoved Remy aside with his magic.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

After Harry added his Shielding Charm to the Egyptian Room, the four wizards backed away to confer, Stephen voluntarily keeping to Potter’s side.

“Now, tell me about this Curse of Dark Anubis, Bill,” Harry ordered politely. He sat under Shiva’s gaze, pushing chocolate bikkies toward the statue every few minutes.

“The story goes that Anubis was once ambushed in the Underworld, his powers stripped from him and given to an imposter. This imposter was the Dark Anubis, raising the dead without the gods’ permission, wrecking the fields of Egypt, even keeping the flooding of the Nile from happening. The real Anubis crawled from the Underworld, and with the help of Isis and another goddess, defeated Dark Anubis with magicks unseen in the world at that time. The curse left behind as Dark Anubis sank to his defeat revives those who worshiped at his perverted temples, setting evil loose upon those who carry the aspect of Anubis: strict judge, seeker of pure hearts, balance of man and beast, you know.”

“And you think this is targeted at me?” Remy asked. “Because I’m a werewolf? Really, that’s too fantastic. Although…” he trailed off with a thoughtful look on his face.

“What? Bite another wolf on the rump recently, Wulfsen?” Stephen chided.

“No, no. I was just remembering someone named…” Remy looked at where he’d stood, to Bill’s left. “Someone named Crowley, actually, Aleister Crowley .”

Harry opened his mouth, but Stephen beat him to it. “And a name like that didn’t trip any warning bells in that brain of yours?” he asked, astounded. “Crowley is infamous!”

“Well, I mean…I call myself ‘Wulfsen’,” Remy replied weakly.

Harry shook his head. “We’ll go on the theory of that the Curse of Dark Anubis has been invoked against Remy—”

“Oi, Harry! Where you want us?” Ron Weasley said as he stepped out of the dark. Several young Aurors—many of them former students of Remus Lupin and Severus Snape—followed. Ron looked closely at Stephen and Remy and merely blinked. “You two I’ll talk with later. For now, we’ve work to do.” Stephen and Remy shared a relieved look as the other Aurors followed Ron’s example and ignored them. Ron set two Aurors to warding the containment box and transporting it away for study and then gathered the rest of his squad near Harry.

The layered shields bent but didn’t crack as more mummies came at them. When the mummified remains of a cat began clawing at the shields, Remy had had enough. “This is a mockery! Whoever this Aleister Crowley is he’s toying with us. Awakening the dead is not a schoolboy lark,” he snarled. Harry’s grin slid off his face and Stephen stepped close enough to put his hand on Remy’s forearm.

“Control yourself, Lu-Wulfsen!” Stephen hissed. “I know you must be getting Wolfsbane regularly—I can smell the potion from here! So there’s no reason go ‘wolfy’ and begin snarling and snapping even if the moon is less than a week away.” His long fingers tightened on Remy’s forearm.

Remy stared at Stephen’s hand, remembering another time when he’d calmed him, when he’d kept him from making a terrible mistake. He shook his head, closed his eyes, and bit his lip. “It’s just…this is where I’ve made a new life. Where I was safe, the world was safe. Now it’s ruined,” he whispered.

Stephen shook his arm, regaining his attention. “No, it’s not, you blithering dunderhead. This is not Voldemort. This definitely is not Bellatrix. Thus, it someone less powerful, less imaginative. Therefore, this is someone we can apprehend by supper time.” Stephen smirked. “I’ve got new spells and potions that needed testing, so I’ll just take this as an opportunity. You should do so as well.”

“You should listen to him. For a dead bloke, he’s full of wise words.” Ron Weasley rocked back and forth on his heels, wand down at his side. “Snape.” The tall redhead nodded and returned to his Auror squad without a backward glance.

“Will wonders never cease. Even Ronald can mature,” Stephen marveled.

“Well, he had to get used to having Draco Malfoy as a brother-in-law,” Harry laughed. “And since we’re both married to the same woman, all the fight was beaten out of him when Ginny decided on the two of us.” Potter continued flipping though a stack of papers he’d picked up somewhere, barely acknowledging Stephen’s gobsmacked expression.

“Malfoy _and_ Potter and Ginevra?” he asked brokenly.

“You should have seen the wedding, Prince,” Bill chimed in. “Harry and Ginny’s was the public one, but a few days later, Draco joined them in France, at Fleur’s family home. Veelas made it all easy and the three of them get along much better than any one of us expected. Good thing their blessing was that every child would be from all three of them.” Bill turned back to the Egyptian Room entryway.

“Did you know of this?!” Stephen asked Remy.

“I was a witness to the second wedding. Veelas don’t discriminate against werewolves, deeming us protectors.” Remy stepped away and Stephen was left with a whirling brain—a third of which was pondering the intricacies of Potter-Malfoy-Weasley relations and another third seeking out ways to foil this supposed Curse of Dark Anubis while the last third turned over ways of touching Remy Wulfsen once more, without witnesses.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

“Here you are, sir!” A young Auror, far too young to have been taught by Lupin or Snape, skidded to a halt at Harry’s side and passed over a scroll.

“Sna-Prince! If you would!” Harry called. He unrolled the scroll and passed it over to Stephen, barely containing his excitement as the other man read it.

“Well, will it work, you think?” he asked when Stephen lifted his eyes.

“It could. I’ll have to combine some potions and Wulfsen’s the Arithmancy expert, or do you have someone else? I’ll need two, no, three equations that combine weakening and reversion with my potions as Weasley casts his curse-breaking spells. You and your Aurors will need to keep the Shielding Charms up as we do this and then peel them away slowly.”

“You know, Prince, you’ve got a lot of practical experience.” Harry looked him up and down. “We could use a consultant like you.” When Stephen’s brows lowered and he scowled, Harry held up his hands. “Just…think about it when this is over. It’s better than sitting at home, counting ducks.”

“Titmouses, Potter. I count titmouses,” Stephen muttered and then gave a slight smile. “Fine, I’ll consider it…if I don’t get eaten by a mummy or whatever Dark Anubis is sending at us.”

Remy spoke up, the ends of his hair singed. “Bill and I figured out what the rotter is after!” he growled. “Bill and I broke into my office and found the box that started all of this.” He pulled something small from his pocket and enlarged it; it was a wooden box with brass fittings. Remy sat down and then continued. “The box had Rabastan Lestrange’s magical signature on it! Even Bill had come across it, so he can verify what my spells showed.”

“Rabastan? He’s in Azkaban, Wulfsen. I saw him there myself just last week!” Ron Weasley said. The others looked at him. “It was my rotation, and for everyone’s sake, even my ferrety brother-in-law’s, I thought it good idea to make certain everyone was where they’d been put.”

“Then who’s copying his magical signature, Weasley?” Stephen asked.

“The best magical signature copyist I ever met was Blaise Zabini,” Remy vouchsafed. “Years after the war, in Instanbul, I ran into him. He had taken up with a fakir from India. He’d copied Draco’s old signature onto some cursed chess pieces and almost got away with it, but I was at the airport cargo area with some antiquities and felt the malevolent magic.”

Harry nodded. “I remember. He didn’t know about our marriage and how our magicks had combined. It was similar, but not the same.” A thought seemed explode behind Potter’s eyes.

“That could be it. Didn’t Zabini’s mum hide Rabastan Lestrange for a few months?” Harry asked Ron.

“Uh, let me check.” Ron’s eyes seemed to roll up into his head and then he was speaking. “Zabini’s residence was searched just three years ago. Rabastan Lestrange was found in a small dungeon, his magic almost drained. Mrs. Zabini evaded arrest and was last seen in the Black Sea region.” His eyes returned to normal.

“Where did you learn that, Weasley?” Stephen asked.

“It’s nothing. You should see me when Hermione gets on me. Malfoy put a memory geas on me as a favor after I saved him from the Twins.” Ron grinned and then went back to his squad.

“Things have certainly changed while I’ve been living quietly,” Stephen remarked to no one in particular.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

The mummies seemed to have given up trying to get through the Shielding Charms and were scrabbling at the walls, their brittle bones chipping and breaking against the concrete and wood.

Bill cracked his fingers and stretched. After a quick bit of tea and sandwiches, they’d gone over the plan Harry had received, Stephen’s contributions making it easier for the other Aurors to participate.

Flasks of a potion mixture Stephen refused to name, but which Remy said smelled like Stinkbug Juice, were passed out amongst the Auror squad, to be held ready until Ron gave the word. Bill and Harry and Remy took up their original positions and then Stephen slid into place at Bill’s right hand.

Harry and the Aurors began peeling away the Shields as Remy’s Arithmancy equations began popping into existence. The first volley of Stinkbug Juice flew through the air and burst through the shield and onto the mummies. Another shield was peeled away, the equations blossomed into existence and then the Stinkbug Juice was thrown again. One more time and all the mummies were soaked in Stinkbug Juice and began melting on the spot. One seemed to resist—the feline mummy—but it too was finally consumed.

The whole Egyptian Room stank of old bones and burned linen until Harry cast an Air Freshening Charm. “So, where do we begin looking for the source of the mysterious wards?” he asked.

Bill pointed toward a trail of sand that went between two marble temple guardians. Remy bowed low and spoke to them, Bill making the odd comment as the conversation in Ancient Egyptian went on. The guardians turned smartly on their heels and began following the sandy trail.

“Well, c’mon, then!” Remy called. “What are you waiting for?” He and Bill pursued the temple guardians, wands at the ready.

“Why is it that strange things seem to be the norm around you people?” Stephen asked.

“Because normal is relative,” Harry laughed as he darted away, Aurors at his heels. Stephen shook his head, cast a preservation spell over the Egyptian Room and trailed more cautiously after everyone else.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

The temple guardians halted outside of a replica of an Egyptian tomb. Remy and Bill thanked them as they took up their positions at the entryway. The Aurors, Ron, Harry and Stephen came to a standstill, fanning out before the tomb.

Harry crossed his arms and asked, “So, what’s the plan?” He and Ron waved the Auror squad into some kind of order.

“My job’s curse-breaking, Harry. You lot know what to do after I get done.” Bill leaned against a plinth holding the bust of Nefertiti. “You may as well ask her what to do.” He indicated the bust with a flourish.

When the bust started speaking, Bill jumped and everyone gave a nervous laugh. Remy approached it and gave an obeisance. Then he tilted his head to the side and listened attentively; Bill choked a few times and laughed into his hand. Stephen sidled up, his wand moving in esoteric patterns.

Stephen leaned over Harry’s shoulder and whispered, “The queen’s head is made of marble and some kind of metal that seems to be bending the magic that’s affecting the museum.”

Remy made another obeisance and backed away a few steps. When he straightened up, he was grinning. “The old girl’s been fuming since the curse activated,” he said with a laugh. “She was the sacred head of a temple when the curse first struck and then a metallurgical wizard crafted her into Nefertiti’s bust. She’s felt the curse three times, this time being the fourth.”

A flask—full of fizzing bubbles—was pressed into Remy’s hand. “Drink that, will you? Your voice is cracking.” Stephen didn’t look at Remy even though his fingers lingered against Remy’s palm.

“Thank you, Sev-Stephen.” Remy downed the drink and burped. A cloud of dark green fog appeared before Remy’s face.

“I thought so,” Stephen muttered. “Potter!” he called. “He’s been dosed.”

“What?! How’d that happen?” Harry had his wand out and was conjuring a containment shield around the green fog. “Ron, check this fog out for me, will you?”

“Bill? Would you do me a favor and check Remy? Seems we’ve been walking around with trouble.” Bill nodded and two young Aurors stepped to his side at Ron’s urging.

“I’d say he touched something once we got in here, probably that box from his desk. This curse seems to be targeting him even if it’s just making things difficult for everyone else.” Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose with his off-wand hand. “It’s the Egyptian theme: Anubis, his specialty… Why would Zabini target him?” he mused aloud. “Why?”

Remy shivered as Bill’s spells washed over him. Finally, the small figure of a lotus flared to life on the back of Remy’s left hand, pulsing with sickly green light. “Found it, Harry!” Bill shouted.

Bill held up Remy’s left hand. “A lotus? Now why would you be wearing a lotus on your skin, Wulfsen?” Stephen asked with a sneer. “I thought only love-slaves wore that.”

Harry, Ron, and Bill looked at each other. Stephen sounded… _jealous_.

“I went to a colleague’s party. He had stamps for those of us who entered a special room…” Remy rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead. “That’s got to be it. The room had priceless Egyptian finds, ones that were scheduled for exhibition next week. We thought nothing of it.”

“Who was this mysterious and enterprising colleague?” Stephen asked. The Aurors stood back and watched the former spy and professor interrogate Wulfsen.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Se-Stephen!” Remy huffed. “Dr. Sternbotham is a fine old gent who decided to give a party. He’d been head of the dig in Hamunaptra…” his voice trailed off as Bill made a choked sound.

“ _Hamunaptra?!_ ” Bill sputtered.

“Remy, even I know that things from Hamunaptra are cursed through and through,” Harry said sadly. Ron nodded vehemently and the other Aurors agreed as well.

“Lu-Wulfsen, you dunderhead!” Stephen sneered. “Didn’t you pay attention in History of Magic class? Or even when old Binns nattered on about Hamunaptra during your time as a professor? It made tea time in the professors’ lounge tedious, but even I listened once in a while.” Stephen crossed his arms and glared at Remy.

“Werewolves may have been created by Slytherin, but the Egyptians had all the ingredients for them eons ago.” Stephen ticked off his points on his fingers. “One, you have the animal aspect every day, even if the fur doesn’t show but once every twenty-eight days! Two, you have access to artifacts of both magical and Muggle significance. And, three, you’ve been touched by both evil and good, a perfect blending of myth, magic, and man, if you will.”

“He’s got the right of it, Remy. With the addition of something from Hamunaptra, you make the perfect conduit for bringing the Dark Curse of Anubis to fruition.” Bill looked up at the temple. Without looking at Remy, he asked, “Were any items passed around? Did you happen to examine anything at Dr. Sternbotham’s do?”

Remy had the grace to wince and drop his eyes. “Oh, Merlin!” he breathed. “There was an amulet…of Anubis and his lover. It was unique in that the lover was a bird-headed minor god.” He shook his head and then looked up, searching for Stephen. “It was a work of art,” he breathed out, looking into Stephen’s dark eyes. “The two of them strode along the banks of the Nile, hand-in-hand. Sternbotham thought they were throwing sticks into it, for the crocodiles.”

“Wizards! An amulet that shows Anubis was a wizard?” Harry interjected.

“Aye, he and his lover. I could feel the magic of the thing, ancient but not malevolent. I thought nothing of handling it.” Remy crossed his arms and brooded. “It felt warm in my hands,” he mumbled.

“There must have been a triggering spell or a siphoning spell that drew your magic into the curse!” Bill barked. “I’ve had to strip a great many triggering spells from tombs and the items in them.”

“You four need come up with something soon, Bill,” Ron interrupted. “The wards seem to be collapsing in, leaving blank spots.”

Stephen plucked at his bottom lip and then suddenly whirled around. “Potter, take your Aurors and go. I’ll stay, and most likely, so will Wulfsen and William.” He opened his satchel and pulled out several vials and flasks of potions, some of which seemed to be frozen in mid-boil. He spread them out on top of a marble column carved with Egyptian and Greek symbols.

Harry protested, “What do you mean ‘take my Aurors and go’? This is our job.”

“The likelihood that some parts of the museum are going to fall and injure someone is going to greatly increase. We need you to apprehend Blaise Zabini and find out exactly why he’s done this.” Stephen looked up, a scowl darkening his face. “I wouldn’t want to explain to Ginevra and Draco how you came to be broken, Potter,” he said softly. “Nor how Ronald there came to be ten inches shorter to Mrs. Weasley-Granger.”

“For a man who lives quietly, you know a lot, Sna-Prince,” Ron said. “Look, I’ll send out the newest recruits, but I’m staying with six of my best. You’ll need the wands.”

Harry shared a look with Ron and nodded. “And Draco, even Ginny, would chew my arse a new hole if I left you here without doing anything, sir.” He touched something hidden under his Auror robes. “There, they know I’m in here and as safe as can be.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, catching Remy’s as he did so. He stared into those changeable eyes, searching for something. When Remy blinked, Stephen shook his head and went back to sorting through his potions. “If you’re going to do this, then I’d best arm you with some specialized potions and emulsions.”

He held up a round-bellied flask that looked liked bottled lightning. “This potion has the ability to open a portal, a Floo without Floo Powder, in an emergency. Here, Potter,” he tossed it to Harry, “You’re in charge of that. See you don’t drop it!” Harry caught with a bit of flair which made Stephen purse his lips.

Stephen grabbed another one, this one a brilliant violet with bubbles frozen inside. He tossed it to Ron. “You’ll want that if anything starts moving again. It will freeze inanimate objects into place for five minutes, hopefully enough time to escape. You can throw it up and explode it over whatever you need frozen.” Ron caught it with one hand and nodded.

He picked up a vial, one that was as long as his middle finger and twirled it in his fingers. “This one is for William.” Stephen handed it to Bill with a small smirk. “You’ll recognize this. _Tears of Isis_ I believe the Egyptians call it.” For everyone else’s benefit, Stephen explained. “It’s a corrosive. It’ll reduce stone to ash, flesh to dust within minutes. It’s been used to combat ancient cursed objects for several hundred years. Remember, William, a little goes a long way.” Bill grinned as he studied the powerful potion.

“Finally, these four vials are for Wulfsen. They contain an emulsion of Hensbane, Crocodile Tears, and Dover Chalk.” Remy cringed and winced as he took the crystal vials from Stephen, their fingers brushing softly. “Yes, you’ll have to drink them, but only when I tell you.” Stephen smirked slightly. “If you’re very lucky, you’ll only have to drink one.” He stared at Remy. “Make certain you are very lucky, Wulfsen.”

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

Stephen watched as Bill Weasley etched Arithmancy equations into the flagstones in front of the temple replica. Nefertiti had called out instructions that Remy translated into equations. Wulfen had written them on a parchment scrap and then passed them over to Bill while Harry and Ron sorted out their Aurors and sent four young and disappointed juniors outside with orders to observe and protect. They left, dragging their feet as they went.

“You coodle them, Potter.”

Harry grinned and shoved his glasses up once more. “Nyah, they’ve been good juniors, but they don’t have all the skills yet.” He pointed with his chin at the remainders of his squad. “These Aurors are the crème de la crème. I’ve been groomin’ them, along with a few others, for those times when we need to think outside the box. You’d like them, Prince. They have more Slytherin tendencies hidden under those robes than you’d think.”

“And you’d know?” Stephen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I had the choice of houses when I was Sorted,” Harry replied. He pulled a locket from his robes and opened it for Stephen. “With Draco and Ginny, I have to practice Slytherin wiles.” The two pictures in the locket smirked and grinned respectively.

“I’ll concede you know what you’re talking of, Potter. But just this once.” Stephen smirked as Harry chuckled.

“Oi!” Ron called. “Something’s happening!” He pointed toward Bill and the wisps of dark blue fog that were rising from the etched equations.

“You’ll want to see this, Harry!” Remy stood off to the side, pointing.

A wavering phantasm became visible. It was Blaise Zabini, older, gaunt, and angry. It mouthed something at them, but no voice came to their ears. Well, for everyone but Remy. He fell to his knees and covered his ears, moaning.

“What the bloody hell?” Stephen rushed to his side.

_“You made me do this, Lupin! You brought the curse on yourself. You should have left me alone, left me to make something from the ashes your side left me!_ ” Remy mumbled. He swayed from side-to-side and Stephen had to search his pockets for the vials he’d given him; he found one and popped the cork with his thumb and forced half the contents into Remy’s mouth. The swaying slowed and then stopped.

Bill cast several spells and they could all hear the apparition’s words. “ _…won’t find me, Lupin! No matter what you do, who you contact, I’ll be ten steps ahead. I’m going to take that boy of yours, Lupin, take him and make him like me…”_ The words trailed away on a sick laugh. “Did you think these parlor tricks were all the Curse of Dark Anubis could do?”

The museum shook around them, the bust of Nefertiti screaming ancient obscenities from the blue streaks in the air. Stephen fell to his knees beside Remy and held him, muttering nonsense words as he cradled him close. Harry stood tall, surrounded by his Aurors; they were casting Strengthening and Protective spells one after the other. Bill’s wand never stopped writing hieroglyphics and runes until the shaking subsided.

Zabini’s phantasm burst into grey flames and vanished as everything stilled. A few stones shifted, some of the exhibitions toppled over, but the insidious wards and the malevolent magic seemed to have withdrawn. Stephen kept Remy wrapped in his arms, glaring at everyone.

“Sir? Mr. Prince, we need to secure the premises. Ron, get someone to Teddy,” Harry was covered in dust, a dark look on his face. “I need to talk to Remy and I’d like your help. Do you still practice Legilimency? Or do you have any Veritaserum?”

“He’s had a shock, Potter. I don’t know how either will affect him.” Stephen tucked Remy closer. “We need someplace quiet, without all the brouhaha your people will necessarily make.”

“My office,” Remy whispered.

Stephen nodded. “William, lead us to his office. Potter, come with us.”

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

Stephen put Remy on a padded bench in his office and drew up the chair from behind the desk. Harry stood back, by the door. Bill stood to Stephen’s right and behind his back, arms crossed.

“Wulfsen?” Stephen asked. When he got no reply, he licked his lips and tried again. “Lupin?” he asked softly. “Remus, I need you to look at me. I need to see your memories of Zabini, of Dr. Sternbotham’s party. Can you look up at me?”

Remy nodded slowly and looked up. His eyes were hazel and blue, tinged with the yellowish amber of the wolf. They were dazed. “Do you trust me?” Stephen asked.

“Yes.” Remy opened his eyes wide and stared into Stephen’s.

“ _Legilimens!_ ” Stephen whispered. He sorted through Remy’s memories, ignoring the ones of their kisses, their broken promises, to find Blaise Zabini…

_Zabini leaned against a shop stall, an exotic creature in a Turkish souk. He spoke with his eyes and hands, dark words dripping from his lips as he counterfeited Draco Malfoy’s signature onto several cursed items._

_“There, that’s done it!” he laughed. He looked up, into Remus’ eyes. “I would never have thought you’d go in for such doings, Lupin.”_

_“Needs must, Mr. Zabini.” Remus nodded and levitated the cursed items into a strongbox. He closed it with a spell._

_“Come back to my home for a drink, Lupin. I’m certain there’s more I could interest you in.” Zabini’s eyes flickered up and down Remus._

_“Thank you, but no. Time is of the essence.” Remus took the strongbox under his arm and began walking away. Within minutes there were shouts and hexes were being shot behind his back. He turned and saw several Aurors and Interpol Squibs take down Zabini._

_Remus handed over the strongbox, answered questions and then saw Zabini sentenced to several years in a Turkish Wizarding prison._

Blinking rapidly, Stephen stored away the Zabini memories and looked searchingly into Remy’s eyes once more. He held Remy still by cradling his head between his palms.

_Dr. Sternbotham was a bluff caricature of an Egyptologist. He dressed in the manner of movie-archeologists of the 1930’s: silk ascot, monocle, jodhpurs and tall boots, hunting jacket and webbed belt. He greeted Remy with a wide, toothy smile and patted him on the back, copping a feel that Remy refused to acknowledge._

_“Come to see my prize possessions, eh, whot, Wulfsen?” Sternbotham chuckled. “Soon they’ll be at home in your museum, safe from the grubby hands of plebians.” Remy pressed his lips together to keep from saying something._

_“Thank you, Dr. Sternbotham. I’ve heard stories of your collection and thought it would be a good idea to see it in its original configuration. Just in case we want to use that as the basis of our exhibition.” Remy moved away slowly, feeling Sternbotham’s touch on his back as he did._

_When Remy saw the amulet of Anubis and his lover, he felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. The magic still pulsed around it, the two gods’ hands forever clasped together as they held their wands loosely in their other hands. He had to touch it, to hold it…hell, to fondle it. He just **had** to!_

Stephen pulled away, his hands still cupping Remy’s cheeks, his thumbs absently smoothing up and down the man’s five-o’clock shadow. “You did more than just feel the malevolent magic, Lu-Wulfsen,” he growled and then pulled away.

“Potter, Wulfsen helped trap Zabini. I’ll wager the pillock bribed his way out of the Turkish prison and set this all up as revenge with Sternbotham’s help.”

“Why didn’t you say so, Remy?” Harry asked.

“There’s geas upon him.” Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled. “The authorities made certain he couldn’t tell the whole truth in the event something went wrong. If he tried to break it, he’d truly become a wolf.” Stephen growled under his breath, “Bastards!”

“Sternbotham has something to do with it. There was a mild, pointed compulsion of the amulet of Anubis and his lover. Wulfsen _had_ to touch it as soon as he saw it.”

“I told you about those spells,” Bill interjected. “If I had the amulet, I could follow the compulsion back to the witch or wizard that cast it.”

The quartet left Remy’s office. No one said anything as they retraced their steps, but Stephen would have bet his war pension that Potter had some harebrained scheme percolating under that mop of hair.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

A young Auror came running from the direction of the weak spot, singed around the edges. “Sir! Sir!” she shouted as she stumbled to a breathless stop at Harry’s side. She gasped out, “The wards have shattered, sir.” She gulped in a lungful of air and continued. “The Obliviators are out and the Muggle authorities are helping us contain the situation. Master Warders are reconstructing the original wards on the museum. But you might want to allow some Unspeakables in, at least the Minister says so. Sir!” She saluted Harry and Ron and turned around and sprinted away.

“Who was that masked man?” Remy muttered under his breath. Only Stephen caught the reference and chuckled.

“Ron!” Harry shouted. “Send Auror Bennett out with orders for a squad of Unspeakables. Lead them to the statue of Shiva and tell them to set up shop.” Auror Bennett, as lean as a whippet, took off after a nod from Ron.

“Well trained, Potter.”

“Thanks, Sn-Prince. Once the Unspeakables get inside, we’ll turn over what we have to and then we’re going after Zabini.” Harry pulled a Muggle notebook from inside his robes and began writing something inside. He closed it with a snap, palming what looked like a Muggle pencil as he did so. “There! I’ve filled Draco in. He’ll meet us at Remy’s house.”

Remy looked bemused. “Wait?! What’s going on now?”

Harry looked at Ron and his remaining Aurors. “We,” he indicated the Aurors, “are going to Dr. Sternbotham’s home. You are going to come with us. Bill and Prince will accompany us as consultants.” Harry grinned devilishly. “Then, I expect we’ll be causing legal mayhem. Does that sound about right, Prince?” Harry shared a look with Stephen that spoke volumes.

“See, even he thinks it’s a good idea.” Harry put his finger in the air and made a circling gesture. “Aurors, to the ready!” The Aurors stood to attention and turned smartly on their heels. Harry cocked his head and squinted. “The Unspeakables just breached the museum. All right, people, let’s go meet and greet and then regroup outside the perimeter.” Harry snapped his fingers and the squad turned as one and marched back the way they’d come.

“So, ready to fight for Remy, Prince?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, now! I can fight my own battles,” Remy cried.

Ignoring him, Stephen Prince smirked. Ron shivered and stepped back. He remembered that evil smirk from his years in Hogwarts. 

“Lead the way, Auror Potter. Who am I do defer justice?” Stephen turned and grabbed a protesting Remy and dragged him away.

Bill chuckled and Harry and Ron joined him before walking back toward the weak point entry.

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

When they reached Dr. Sternbotham’s home, Harry and the Aurors went first, claiming a legitimate right to search the place. Stephen fumed until Bill whispered something in his ear that made him give that evil smirk once more.

When the Aurors had cleared the house, then Remy, Stephen and Bill could enter. They did, with wands drawn and Stephen rolling several open potions into the rooms first. Remy led the way to Sternbotham’s exhibition room and flung the doors open.

Inside, they found the amulet of Anubis and his lover, right where Remy had last seen it. Bill and Stephen cast spells and poured potions to assess the situation. 

“The compulsion is very weak,” Bill said. “The only way it’d work is if someone added something to your person, Remy.”

Stephen turned with a scowl. “How could I have been so stupid?” he muttered. Searching in his satchel, he mumbled and growled until he found a tiny vial of ruby. “Wulfsen, sit down…please.”

Remy sat, bemused at Stephen’s relatively polite request. Afterwards, he wasn’t so happy.

The tiny vial held a strong potion, one that made any magic done within twenty-four hours upon a person’s body visible to the naked eye, in glaring, revealing detail. The invisible lotus flared on Remy’s hand, then a pinprick of magic flared on his back, toward his buttock—where Sternbotham had attempted to grope him—and then an orange glow surrounded his groin, much to his consternation…and mortification.

All the men in the room bit their lips; they knew that orange spell very well. Stephen manfully ignored it and focused on the lotus and the pinprick. “Weasley, tell me what you see when you glance at this lotus,” he said. His eyes were on the pinprick, assessing the color and the strength.

Bill squinted and looked out of the corner of his eye. “Well, the lotus is a love-slave’s tattoo, you had that right before, but this one’s got half of a triggering spell on it. I’d say it and that skinny one combined with someone’s magic to make Remy touch the amulet.” 

“Potter, can you still stop your magic?” Stephen said suddenly. Harry nodded slowly. “Then, please do so, and blank out everyone else’s as you do.” Stephen looked at him. “But not mine.”

“Easy enough.” Harry sat down and slowly the background buzz of magic was reduced to the single note of Stephen’s.

“Wulfsen, sit back and think of nothing.” Stephen knelt in front of Remy, hands on the other man’s knees for balance. “Clear your mind.” He seemed to stare through Remy’s chest.

Everyone held their breaths as Stephen’s magic whined, thinned, and then vibrated at a more pleasing note. Stephen pulled back to sit on his heels. “You may stop now, Potter.”

Harry let his breath out with a whoosh and sank back in his seat. “What did that show you?” he asked.

“It showed me that sometime in the past, Zabini infected Wulfsen’s magic, most likely in Instanbul. That changed his magical signature. That was the missing key. Zabini can forge almost anyone’s magical signature, so why did he need Wulfsen’s?” He looked around the room. “The answer’s all around us. Dr. Wulfsen has a sterling reputation, one that can get him near antiquities of great value and power. He’s also a werewolf, which means great magic is needed to tinker with his signature.”

“Did Zabini ever touch your skin, Wulfsen? Shake hands or place his fingers on the back of your hand?” Stephen asked. When Remy nodded, he grinned and stood up.

“Zabini and Sternbotham are most likely the same person—” The silvery patronus of a swan flew through the walls and circled Harry.

“Harry,” Draco Malfoy’s voice said, “Cousin Teddy and Andromeda are at our home. Ginevra has things well in hand. I’ve dispatched Unspeakables and Aurors to remove several magical booby-traps from their house. We also have Blaise Zabini in custody.” It hissed and plucked at Harry’s wild hair before shimmering away.

“Now we have all the pieces,” Harry crowed. Ron and Bill shared grins and Remy wilted in his seat.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Remy breathed out. He put his head in his hands.

“Will you live, Wulfsen?” Stephen asked.

“Oh, I’ll live, but Zabini’s just lucky he didn’t hurt them.” Remy looked at Stephen. “I protect those I love.”

“Well, then, time for us Aurors to do our jobs,” Ron said after clearing his throat. “Um, Harry, why don’t you escort Remy home while the squad and I log everything?”

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Ron. Okay, Prince. You and Remy are coming with me. Bill, would you stay and help the squad?” Bill nodded.

“All right. C’mon, boys. Time to introduce you to my better halves.”

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

“Da!” Teddy Lupin ran into his father’s arms when they opened the door. Ginevra rocked in a chair, a small, dark head at her breast as Draco leaned against the wall, grinning.

“Good to see you again, Professor,” Ginny called. Her grin was infectious and he smiled back.

“Severus.” Draco bowed his head in greeting. _I forgive you._

“Draco.” _I thank you for that._

“Stop with the Slytherin-speak, Draco,” Ginny chided her other husband. Harry laughed and swooped down to kiss her cheek and run gentle fingers down their son’s cheek.

“My apologies, Mrs. … what do I call you?” Stephen asked as Teddy chattered nine-to-the-dozen at his father in the background.

“Ginny will do nicely.” She burped the baby and passed him off to Harry who had him gurgling in no time. “Come in and have some tea.”

Hours passed as Stephen caught up with the Malfoy-Potters and Andromeda Black. He marveled that Teddy Lupin was so graceful when one of his parents had been the clumsiest of women. He also watched Remy’s hands, remembering other thoughts he’d seen, thoughts that had to do with those hands and other parts….

“…to dinner?” Draco asked. Stephen looked at him blankly.

“He asked if you’d like to stay for dinner, sir,” Teddy said with a grin. His hair was slightly black and Stephen realized the boy was a Metamorphmagus like his mother. As he watched, the boy’s nose grew a bit more hawkish.

“Teddy. You must be tired. You’re beginning to turn into Mr. Prince.” Remy tugged his son into his arms for a hug.

“Sorry, sir,” Teddy apologized. “I’m getting better, honest.”

“No apologies necessary, Mr. Lupin. You are still learning to control your magic. I am most impressed.” Everyone stared at Stephen, varying signs of shock and growing respect in their eyes.

Teddy blushed and became a smaller, younger version of Stephen immediately. Stephen smirked. “Very nice.”

“Teddy, are we eating here?” Remy interrupted.

Ginny stood up and her husbands flanked her. “Of course you all are. Mum sent over some of the best apple pies for you.” She strode into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “And don’t think of leaving. I’ll sic Draco on you!”

§¤§°§¤§°§¤§

They ate and discussed the adventure of the day, leaving out several things that might have disturbed Andromeda or Teddy, or even Remy. Stephen almost patted his stomach, it was full for the first time since his years at Hogwarts. He had to stifle a burp in a napkin, blushing.

“Come along, Teddy.” Andromeda stood up, rounded the table and gave Stephen a hug. “Don’t be a stranger, Severus. Once things have settled down you’re to come for a visit. I have a lovely Elizabethan knot-garden you should see. Very potent, very rare plants.” She gathered Teddy and then Flooed to the Burrow for the night.

Remy sighed and sipped his tea. “I should be going, too, Ginny.”

Ginny ignored him and looked Stephen in the eye. “Do you think you could put Remy up for the night, Stephen?” she asked. Stephen didn’t trust the sly look in her eye, but then again, she _was_ aiding and abetting his own wants.

“Yes. I’ve got a snug cottage, but there’s room for two or three,” he said softly.

Draco and Harry hustled them to the Floo, not giving Remy a chance to protest. Within minutes the two men found themselves stumbling out into Stephen’s living room.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Stephen bowed with a flourish.

“Thank you. But, you don’t have to do—”

Stephen stepped close enough to kiss Remy silent, his hands coming up to grasp the other man’s forearms. Remy’s mouth opened slightly and Stephen’s tongue traced his lips, pushing in and out of the opening.

They pulled back, Stephen’s cheeks red and his lips redder. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight,” he whispered.

Remy moved closer and slid his arms around Stephen’s waist. “You saw, didn’t you?” he asked. Stephen nodded and smirked.

“You fantasize about me,” he mumbled against Remy’s chin. “How could I see that and ignore it?” He nibbled around a scar on Remy’s chin.

“Then…this is a one-off?” Remy asked as he tilted his chin up, allowing Stephen to suck on the throbbing vein below.

“Not if I can help it…”

“Then I’m all yours,” Remy gasped.

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

__

~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.  
Thank you for reading. ~~~


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